(Not) About You
You may think
that this poem is written for you…
You may be right or you may not,
in fact,
the only way
to discern exactly what’s in my heart,
to tell for whom I wrote this poem
(that spreads on a soul and a half)
is to grow soft wings
and become an angel for the most part…
(because a seraph would never spread any rumors
or unveil my secrets
or drink my pain with great delight).
You may think that
the poem at page twenty-two
is about you.
You may be right or you may not,
in fact,
feelings, too, suffer from insecurities,
and, yet, they are guiltless…
So, sink into my tears
and read my dusty ruins, dear,
read them all
and if you still think,
that this poem is about you,
be brave-for once in your life-
and simply just
…ask me…!
